


The Proper Classification of Monsters

by Yassandra



Category: Atlantis (UK TV)
Genre: Attacked By A Creature, Episode Related, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-24
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-08-10 20:09:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7859467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yassandra/pseuds/Yassandra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pythagoras examined the deep gashes on his own arm with pursed lips and a deep frown.<br/>“This is all your fault,” he grumbled accusingly.<br/>The pig blinked at him and then wandered off to start rootling about at the base of one of the rocks in search of food.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Proper Classification of Monsters

**Author's Note:**

> A/N Well here I am again with a one shot when I'm actually supposed to be working on chapter 16 of Child of Fortune... and it's not even one of the other two one-shots I was already working on that are currently stuck in work-in-progress hell!
> 
> This is set as a missing scene in episode 1.6 Song of the Sirens when Pythagoras has been left essentially all alone with Hercules the pig while Jason goes off to see Circe. I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> It has been written for Round 7 of Hurt/Comfort Bingo on Live Journal and fills the prompt "Attacked by a Creature" on my bingo card ;-)

Pythagoras examined the deep gashes on his own arm with pursed lips and a deep frown.

"This is all your fault," he grumbled accusingly.

The pig blinked at him and then wandered off to start rootling about at the base of one of the rocks in search of food.

Pythagoras sighed. What was he doing arguing with a pig anyway? Even if that pig _was_ a magically transformed Hercules. Actually, arguing with Hercules was a pretty futile gesture at the best of times anyway – he never listened; never changed; was the same drunken, womanising fool he had been when Pythagoras had first met him all those years ago.

The young genius sighed. He was being uncharitable, he supposed – but it was hard to remember the good times when he was left sitting here, essentially alone, nursing a throbbing arm and worrying himself into an early grave about both his friends.

"He won't do anything stupid will he?" he asked as the pig wandered back over, frustrated in its attempts to find food, and he himself began to pull bandages from his pack.

The pig looked at him steadily.

"What am I saying?" Pythagoras asked. "This is Jason we are talking about. Of course he will do something stupid. He's almost bound to do something ridiculously heroic and self-sacrificing and there isn't a single thing I can do about it."

He grabbed a piece of cloth and poured some water from his water skin onto it, dabbing the claw marks on his arm carefully and hissing at the resultant sting.

"What was that thing anyway?" he asked, referring to the creature that had attacked him.

The pig snorted.

"I will have to try to find out once we return to Atlantis," Pythagoras went on as he began to bind his arm. "I am sure there will be texts in the library referring to monsters that I can search."

The pig snorted again. It sounded remarkably like an attempt at a laugh.

Pythagoras frowned.

"You can laugh all you like, Hercules," he replied with some asperity, "but you will be grateful enough for my knowledge and preparation if we encounter the same sort of creature in the future… and given Jason's heroics and your foolishness it seems only too likely that we will!"

The pig grunted. It came over to where Pythagoras was sitting and shoved its wet nose gently into the mathematician's hand. Pythagoras sighed again and petted the creature gently.

"I am sorry, old friend," he murmured softly. "My arm hurts and it is making me unpleasant. I do not mean it."

The pig grunted again and nestled in alongside him. Pythagoras rested his good arm over the pig's back, gently patting its flank and rubbing his hand over the warm, dry skin.

They sat like that for a few long minutes. Finally, Pythagoras shook himself.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "I feel better now."

The pig snorted… and then farted.

"Urgh!" Pythagoras protested, pushing himself to his feet one-handedly and bringing his arm up to cover his nose. "Did you have to? It's bad enough when you do that as a man!"

The pig squealed and turned its back on him.

He should probably carry on setting out their camp, Pythagoras decided now that he was on his feet. After all, there was no telling how long Jason would be. Given that they had already been setting up camp when the creature had attacked, it seemed unlikely that they would be continuing on tonight. After all, who knew what might be lurking in the dark?

With that decision made, Pythagoras finished laying out the blankets. With a half-smile, he left one folded for the pig that was Hercules to lie down on, keeping a second blanket tucked away to tuck over the creature once they went to bed to ward off the chill of the night.

"There you go," he said to the pig. "There's a bed of your own… but don't think that this means I will be making your bed for you once we have succeeded in turning you back into a man."

_If we succeed in turning you back into a man_ , he added silently in his head.

He grabbed a bowl from his pack, intending to leave the small ravine to look for some berries or fruits for supper. The pig squealed and trotted up to him, nearly tripping him up.

"For goodness sake, Hercules" Pythagoras said in exasperation. "I am only going to find some food… which I would not need to do if you had not been greedy and eaten all our supplies!"

For a moment he could have sworn the pig looked embarrassed – if it was possible for a pig to look embarrassed that was.

"I know Jason told you to look after me," he went on, "but I will be fine. He killed the creature and as far as I can see there will be little danger in looking for fruit! Stay and guard the camp."

What good a pig would be if the camp were attacked he didn't quite know. Still, at least it meant that he could have a few moments peace to himself and that he wouldn't be tripping over Hercules at every turn. The last thought made him smile. How many times over the years had he nearly tripped over Hercules when the man had been passed out drunk on the floor? It seemed that no matter what form Hercules was in – whether it was a man or enchanted to be a pig – he would get under foot no matter what.

Pythagoras reached the clearing where he had been attacked by the creature – which surely must have been summoned by Circe to attack him. He just wasn't sure why the witch would have done that – unless she had been hoping he would be too injured to continue on. Yes. That had to be it. She must have wanted to separate Jason from his friends and force him to continue on alone. Pythagoras stopped dead as the thought occurred to him, cursing to himself. If that had been what she had intended then she had certainly got her way, because here he was looking for supper while Jason was facing her on his own.

Damn it all! He knew he should have either have stopped Jason from going alone or gone with his friend to the end. Yes, his arm was hurting (hurting badly now that he thought about it) but he could still have continued on.

Still, what was done was done. Now all that he could do was prepare the camp for the night and wait for Jason to come back. With renewed purpose Pythagoras made his way into the clearing, intent on finding supper.

Seeing the carcass of the creature that had attacked him made him stop once more. It was even larger than he remembered. How in the name of the Gods had Jason managed to kill it? Pythagoras shuddered as thoughts of what might have been flitted through his mind.

He peered at it carefully, intending to commit as many details as possible to memory to help him find out exactly what it was on his return to the city. It wasn't a dragon, he was certain of that, and most definitely not a gryphon. Nor was it a hippogriff or one of the stymphalian birds. Perhaps a harpy? The more he thought about it the more that possibility seemed likely – although he really didn't know enough about such creatures to be certain. It was a deficiency in his knowledge that he would have to correct at the earliest available opportunity. After all, who knew when all their lives might depend on his ability to correctly identify a monster?

Staring at the creature wasn't going to help with setting up the camp or getting supper though. As soon as Pythagoras was certain that he had as many details about it committed to memory as possible he turned away and began to scan the trees and bushes at the edge of the clearing in search of food.

It was easy to let his mind wander to other subjects as his fingers swiftly picked the fruit from the bush he found, but the burning pain in his arm brought him back to reality quickly enough. Pythagoras pushed on through it, determined that they would have food tonight, feeling that they needed some kind of meal. He used the hand on his injured arm to hold the bowl while his other stretched up to collect fruit from the higher branches.

Back in the small ravine where they had set up camp, he set the meagre bowl of fruit down on his blankets and cast about him for stones to finish the half-built fire he had been constructing when the creature had attacked.

Hercules began to wander over to the bowl, grunting as he came, his long snout snuffling as he smelt the fruit.

"Don't you dare," Pythagoras admonished sharply. "It is bad enough that you ate all the supplies we brought with us."

The pig ignored him and continued to move towards the bowl. Pythagoras snatched it up and moved it up onto a large flat boulder.

"I mean it Hercules," he said. "If you eat that, then I might just decide to have _bacon_ for supper!"

He didn't really mean it of course and he had a feeling that Hercules knew that from the almost derisive sound to his snort. Still, the pig moved away and started rooting in the earth on the other side of the ravine. Pythagoras nodded to himself and returned to his task.

Building and lighting a fire one handed was not an easy task as it turned out. Pythagoras' arm was throbbing constantly and he found himself keeping it as close to his body as possible, lying tightly against his chest with the fingers almost resting on his collarbone, guarding it from further damage.

Even so, by the time Jason returned to the camp, slipping silently back down the small ravine and startling Pythagoras, everything was laid out and the fire was crackling cheerfully. Pythagoras glanced up at his friend as Jason dropped down wearily to sit on the far side of the fire. The young mathematician frowned. Jason looked troubled.

"Did you find the witch?" he asked.

"Yeah," Jason replied softly.

"And?"

"She wants me to do something for her… and she won't save Hercules and Medusa unless I do."

"What does she want you to do?" Pythagoras asked. The expression on Jason's face was definitely giving him a sinking feeling.

"She wants me to kill someone," Jason answered, his voice low.

Pythagoras gasped quietly.

"What are you going to do?" he murmured.

"I don't know," Jason replied. "I'm not a murderer but I have no choice. If I don't…" He turned to look at the apparently oblivious Hercules, his eyes saying eloquently what he didn't seem to be able to give voice to.

Pythagoras looked at him steadily, concern and affection in his blue eyes.

"I think you'd better tell me everything," he said firmly. "But first you need to eat… we all do." He allowed his voice to raise a little at the end, including Hercules in the statement.

The pig was at his side in a heartbeat, snorting softly and gazing longingly at the bowl of fruit that was still sitting on top of the rock, just out of his reach. Pythagoras rolled his eyes but turned to collect the bowl.

"You are not having all of it," he said sternly to the pig. "We need to eat too."

The pig squealed and Pythagoras couldn't help the grin that rose to his lips. He exchanged a look with Jason. His brunette friend's mouth turned up faintly at the corners but he didn't really smile. He looked down at the bowl Pythagoras was proffering.

"Thanks but I'm not really hungry," he said quietly.

"I know," Pythagoras answered gently, "but you still need to eat something. It has been a long day for all of us. We can talk seriously after supper."

Jason sighed but still took a plum from the bowl, munching on it thoughtfully as the juice dribbled over his hand.

"So what _was_ the thing that attacked you?" he asked.

"I do not really know," Pythagoras answered. "Although I suspect it may have been a harpy."

Jason looked confused.

"I thought that a harpy had the top half of a woman and the bottom half of a bird?" he said. "That thing looked more like some sort of flying lizard."

"Wherever did you get that idea?" Pythagoras asked incredulously.

Jason definitely had some strange ideas and Pythagoras could never understand how he had got so far through life without even the most basic knowledge. His friend wasn't stupid, of that Pythagoras was certain, but how sheltered a life must he have led to know so little about civilised life, society, religion? The list went on and on.

"I have never heard of any creature that has the top half of a woman and the bottom half of a bird," the young genius added.

The pig snorted its agreement.

Jason looked awkward. He shrugged.

"It's just something I read… back where I came from," he muttered.

Pythagoras' ears pricked up instantly. It wasn't often that Jason mentioned the place he had lived before Atlantis.

"Perhaps there is a different creature where you come from that simply shares the name of our harpy," he suggested.

If anything Jason looked even more awkward.

"Maybe," he said. "But it's just stories. Most people think they're imaginary… like dragons."

Pythagoras frowned.

"But dragons are not imaginary," he objected. "There are many recorded incidents of people having seen them."

"We don't actually have _any_ monsters where I come from," Jason said. "Only stories."

"None at all?" Pythagoras asked incredulously.

"No," Jason replied shortly. He looked at Pythagoras. "You said that whatever that thing was they don't normally live in the forest."

"They do not," Pythagoras confirmed. "It must have been summoned and I believe it was the witch Circe who summoned it."

"It sort of guessed that," Jason admitted. "She told me that she had wanted me to meet her alone."

"I believe that she hoped I would be too badly injured to continue on… if not killed outright," Pythagoras answered. "If it was truly her desire for you to be alone with her then she got her wish."

"How badly _are_ you hurt?"

"Some deep gashes to my arm, as you saw earlier. That is all. I have cleaned and bound them. They are no longer even bleeding and should not take too long to heal," Pythagoras replied. "I should have come with you to see the witch," he added, berating himself. "I could have carried on."

"Yeah but we don't know what else she might have done if you had," Jason answered. "It wouldn't have been worth the risk."

"Perhaps," Pythagoras acknowledged. "But you should not have had to face her alone."

He looked at the now empty fruit bowl, before glancing across to the blanket where Hercules was making himself comfortable and licking his long snout clean of sticky fruit juice with relish. Pythagoras smiled affectionately to himself. Whatever form he was in, it seemed that Hercules would always enjoy eating.

Pythagoras turned back to look seriously at his younger friend.

"Now," he said. "Tell me everything that happened when you met with Circe."


End file.
